I am convinced that my survival in the Holocaust is because of a chain of miracles. I do not consider myself special. But without those miracles, I would not have survived. I would have perished with all the other children of my age. I survived by these miracles:
I was blonde, with blue eyes and white skin. Hungarian law forbade Jews to travel. But every Sunday, I secretly traveled by train to Marghita to pick up food from an aunt and returned home to Şimleu Silvaniei at night. No one ever asked me, “Why are you traveling?”
In the ghetto of Cehei, which held more than seven thousand inhabitants, four were ordered to peel potatoes. I was one of them. I had plenty of raw or boiled potatoes to eat. Whenever we left the ghetto, we were stripsearched. I would hold my pocketknife tightly. I was never caught.
On arrival to Auschwitz-II/Birkenau, Dr. Mengele directed me to the right at the last second. Tragically, my mother and brother were not directed to the right.
In Auschwitz-II/Birkenau Block 20, my group stood in knee-high rainwater. Assisted by luck, I was transferred to Block 18 to be with my cousins. I passed out the next day at roll call, but an angel held out her wings. Dr. Mengele did not notice me. I was taken inside.
I ate potato peels mixed with sand from a garbage pile. It filled my empty stomach, but I did not get sick. My tummy was enlarged. At the next selection, Dr. Mengele pointed it out, but he let me go with others whose lives were spared.
In the factory, a German Meister1 risked his freedom and brought me salt to stop my gums from bleeding. When I coughed and was ill with high fever, another miracle happened. Although I had a blanket on my back, a German officer didn’t beat me for not obeying orders. I was sick and yet not shipped away. Because I was blonde?
While on the train returning home, a Russian soldier tried to drag me away. To him I looked German. Because I was blonde? I got away, and I hid under a bench, behind others’ legs. No one on the train betrayed me. I escaped.
By a chain of miracles, my life had been spared. One last miracle should have come, but it did not—if only another member of my family would have survived. I was alone. Both my parents and my brother had perished. There was no one to love and protect me, no one to provide a home for me.
—Elly Berkovits Gross
1A factory supervisor.